


You Could Have Called First

by DeadlyBingo



Category: Arrow (TV 2012), Arrow - Fandom, olicity - Fandom
Genre: Arrow AU, Arrow season 2/season 3, F/M, Humor, olicity - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-08
Updated: 2016-02-08
Packaged: 2018-05-18 23:07:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,203
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5946757
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DeadlyBingo/pseuds/DeadlyBingo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Set between season 2 and season 3, Felicity shoots an "intruder" who breaks into her bedroom at night.  Moments later, she's rushing Oliver to get patched up and apologizing profusely.</p>
            </blockquote>





	You Could Have Called First

**Author's Note:**

> This is my take on the 7th prompt from Tumblr's Olicity Fic Challenge. It takes place between seasons 2 and 3 with some important changes made. I took some liberty with the prompt but it originally read, “I accidentally shot you in the leg and at first I felt bad, but now I’m not so sure because I’m carrying you to the nurse and you won’t stop complaining and yelling at me.”

“You SHOT me?!” Oliver’s voice was quickly transitioning from disbelief to anger.

“I’m sorry, I’m _so,_ so _sorry!”_ Felicity cried, trying to regulate her breath as she took the final turns to the lair below Verdant.

“You actually SHOT ME!” Oliver repeated, his cries focusing more on the fact that _Felicity_ had shot him rather than the bullet that had grazed his leg.  “Where did you get a _GUN_ anyway?”

“I took my gun licensing course and ordered it online… But I think they’ll take it away now.” Felicity admitted, feeling the tears form in her eyes.  Getting a gun had seemed like a good idea, even a responsible one considering her new line of work, but now...

“We’re not _reporting_ this Felicity. That’s why Dig will be sewing me up.  But _I’m_ sure as hell taking away that weapon.”

“Well…” Felicity bit her lip, unsure if now was an appropriate time to bring up her burning question.

“Well what? What’s your excuse for _shooting me_?” Oliver asked, looking pointedly to the blood soaked towel around his leg.

“Why the hell did you come into my BEDROOM?! At night?!” Felicity finally questioned, turning to look at Oliver briefly before retraining her eyes on the road.

Suddenly, for the first time since getting into Felicity’s car, Oliver grew quiet, and Felicity couldn’t help but notice her radio station was embarrassingly still on a “rocking out to the 80’s” station.

“What?” Felicity prompted, Oliver’s reaction justifying her growing frustration, “tell me why you’re bleeding in my car _again_.  What the heck could have prompted this? Is some new villain after me now?”

“Earlier.” Oliver replied quietly, his voice suddenly carrying no trace of the physical pain he must be in.

“A new villain was after me _earlier_? But why-”

“No, what happened earlier.  With _us_.” Oliver’s voice grew quiet and Felicity could see him watching her out of the corner of her eye, waiting for her to remember.

In the chaos of the moment, Felicity had to wrack her mind to what had happened earlier.  But one glance in his eyes and the kiss came came flooding back to her.  

After yet another death defying mission, she had bitten the bullet and kissed Oliver when he returned.  It had only taken moments for the kiss to become more intense and she offered to let him come over and order take-out, desperate for more time alone with him.  But he had refused, suddenly bumbling on like she so often did, which ultimately left _her_ speechless.  They had soon parted ways with barely a goodbye and she was in bed, crying from embarrassment, when her window had creaked open less than two hours later.

“But… you… But why _the window_?” She finally asked, unable to look to Oliver sitting beside her. “You could have _called_.”

“I’m sorry.  I thought it’d be…”

Felicity’s jaw dropped as she made the connection. “You thought it might be _romantic_?!” Felicity finished, the heat of her anger burning away the guilt that had settled in her chest.

“You had mentioned that you liked seeing me scale walls when I trained so I figured…”

“Oliver, know who else scales walls and goes into girl’s bedrooms?   _Serial killers!_ ”  

Felicity had pulled into the alleyway behind Verdant before making the connection about the implications of what she had said.  Oliver had become sensitive about his violent past, especially when she was the one to bring it up.  And now he sat motionless on the car, his eyes narrowed as he stared at Diggle’s car parked ahead of theirs.

“Dig must be waiting inside…” He said after a moment, turning away from Felicity.

“I’m sorry…”

“I know.  It’s my fault for going in the window.  Don’t feel bad Felicity.  I probably deserved it.  I definitely deserved it.”

“Oliver…”

“No,” Oliver shook his head, “it really is my-”

“Oliver.” Felicity said again, waiting for him to turn back to face her before continuing, “I’m sorry I said that about you coming in the window.  I didn’t mean it.  You’re a good man and didn’t mean to scare me.  I shouldn’t have made a comment comparing you...”

“I’m sorry, too-” Oliver jumped in, knitting his brow together.

“You already apologized for coming in the window.  Let’s just say it’s over.  No more saying sorry for tonight. Either of us.”

“No, Felicity.  I’m sorry for... earlier,” Oliver paused, examining Felicity’s eyes before continuing, “I guess I panicked.  I couldn’t think clearly and I’m not used to that.  When I finally realized how much I screwed up… well scaling the wall to the second floor of your condo seemed like the quickest way to see you again… and apologize in person.”

Silence hung in the car except for the old radio humming “Every Breath You Take” and Felicity knew they were both thinking of the same thing: how this night _could_ have ended if he had bothered to call first.

“We should… we should go inside.  John is waiting…” Felicity reminded Oliver, though she didn’t make any move to get out of the car.

Oliver nodded his head in agreement, but rather than back away from Felicity, toward the door, he began leaning forward, reaching his free hand around the back of her head.

Their lips had barely met when all of the terrible emotion from the night, rejection, terror, guilt, all melted off Felicity’s shoulders.  Instead, her mind could only focus on this moment, on the sound of Oliver moving his lips against hers, the heat of his hand on the back of her neck, the taste of his tongue as he-

“What the hell are you two still doin’ out here?!” John’s voice called from the back entrance to the lair, causing the pair to pull apart as they gasped for air, “You made me get out of bed for this, so let’s see the damage before some kids from the club stumble into the back alley to hook up.”

Felicity readjusted her glasses as John approached the car window, squinting his eyes toward them in the shadows, “Is Oliver able to hobble down on his own?” He asked as Felicity finally opened her car door, the car’s internal light switching back on and revealing her face.

“Yeah, um, he got to my, uhh, car okay, but maybe help him on the stairs… going down?” She suggested, trying not to fumble over her own words as she stood up.

“Hey, Lic, you okay?” John asked, touching her warm arm reassuringly, “It’s going to be fine, he said the bullet just grazed him.  And I’m sure when I get the story of how the _hell_ this happened, it will be _his_ fault.”

Felicity forced a smile, knowing that John must be misinterpreting her labored breath and warm cheeks as signs of being overwhelmed by the shooting.  But all she could focus on right now was that kiss, which was even better than the first, and what insane story they would have to come up with for why Oliver was climbing through her window at 10PM.

Oliver laughed as he opened his own door, “You got that right,” he replied, looking to Diggle before turning to Felicity, “totally my fault.”


End file.
